Earl Grey
by MarauderNicki
Summary: "The Burrow wasn't a place you found these little moments to relax, sip a bit of delicious tea, and ponder about the odds of the Chudley Cannons finally winning a game." Ron ponders about life. Hints of Scorpius/Rose.


A/N: Short drabblish thing I thought up. Please review, it would really make my day!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in it. That all belongs to the literary goddess Jo Rowling.

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Mr. Ronald Weasley reclined at his kitchen table, quietly sipping a cup of tea. He gazed out the window at the midday sun, as he had done every Saturday afternoon for the entire school year. These moments, he felt, were his reward for his never ending chaotic lifestyle.  
Growing up with five older brothers and an annoying younger sister had been quite an experience. What with sprained ankles, countless splinters, and the constant fear that Fred and George would find a new and more creative way to blow the roof off the home, the Burrow wasn't a place you found these little moments to relax, sip a bit of delicious tea, and ponder about the odds of the Chudley Cannons finally winning a game.

Hogwarts had been a new level of chaos. Ron had more important things to do then spend a relaxing day by the lake, throwing breadcrumbs to the giant squid. He had to pass his classes, try to not be labeled as just another "Weasley", and in his later years maintain his Quidditch nerves. On top of that it seemed that at the end of every year he was placed in a life or death situation, almost as if it was the climax of another strenuous year, and this was his final exam to make it to the next chapter of his life...

Sure, he could have found a quiet place in Hogwarts, but he just have the time. There was the library of course...but really who went to the library besides Hermione? Don't even get Ronald Weasely started on Hermione Granger...she was by far the most stressful, nauseating, and chaotic test of his life.

In the end the two of them survived the war, clutching each other as their best friend Harry Potter finally defeated Voldem-, I mean, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. (Mr. Weasely still isn't quite comfortable with using the Dark Lord's true name, so we shall spare him the discomfort for the moment.)

Ron had lost a brother in that war. Fred. It still hurt to think about him even in these quiet, peaceful, moments. He, Hermione, and Harry had lost many great friends. War is a horrible thing, but sometimes it brings people together.

After the war's conclusion Ron and Hermione were married on October 18th, 2000. The two enjoyed a peaceful time together, moments in which Ron could stare out the window sipping his Earl Grey as Hermione read in the living rooom. But soon, chaos returned in a miraculous and beautiful way, the birth of their daughter Rose Weasely.

Mr. Weasley not only had to fight dark wizards in his job as a Ministry Auror, he also had to fight an even more fearsome villain- dirty diapers. Then came Hugo and Ron had a whole new perspective on potty training.

Now, the only peaceful moments our beloved red-head has are his Saturday afternoons, when his wife is reading a new book, and his children are off at Hogwarts. Of course he loves his children, and can't wait to see them again as they hop off of the scarlet Hogwarts Express, yet he always enjoys his last Saturday tea with an air of sadness. Ronald knows he won't get to gaze out his window in complete silence until September rolls around again. True peace his precious.

Ron turns to his wife as Hermione walks into the kitchen carrying a basket laden with their extra set of sheets and pillow cases. He raises an eyebrow over the brim of his mug and is unaware that this will be his last peaceful sip.

"I'm preparing the spare guest room. You read Rosie's last letter, didn't you? No? Well, she invited Scorpius Malfoy to spend the first two weeks of the holiday with us..."

As Hermione quickly ascends the stairs, fearing the worst, her husband places his cup of Earl Grey gently on the wooden table. His ears begin to redden and his hands start to shake as his memory flashes. White-blond hair, an arrogant smirk, too casual remarks about hand-me-down robes...

Mr. Ronald Weasley was right. He should have never of had children.


End file.
